Author: ellenanneeddy

Hunting for Rubbing Plates: When You’re Desperate You Make Your Own

| ellenanneeddy

I’ve been in love with oil paint stick rubbing for some tine. The ritchness of the patterns and colors adds a fabulous dimension to my art.

IT’s not for every quilt. It’s not for every image. But when it’s right it’s magical.

My first usages for them were little quilts, experiments more than anything. To my surprise, they have been popular. People have bought them and been pleased to have a small quilt at a more accessible price. I’ve continued to make them.

They’ve crept into my larger work as well. I found I could use plastic ceiling tiles as rubbing plates,

What am I missing?: Rain, frogs, birds, grass, pebbles, water reflections, clouds, sea weeds, and who knows what else.

It’s limited. There are some fabulous rubbing plates, but they are finite. No one seems to making new ones. And as a phase in the quilt world, it seems to have come and gone.

But that’s the thing about phases. If they have a glory of their own, then perhaps they shouldn’t go. I keep wanting more images. At a certain point, it has to come from somewhere else.

I’ve tried desperately to make my own.

This has been a quest for a while. I tried making plates on a CNC. As it is, it’s past my ablity. If anyone is willing to help me learn, I would bless you. I do think it’ s a possible answer. I’m not currently able.

I’ve tried block cutting erasers. Words fail me. Not my skill. I’m willing to do something badly to do it well, but not that badly.

I’ve tried piping modelling paste, with limited success. You can pipe modeling paste through a piping bag like frosting. I can too, but mine is lumpy and weird, even if I smooth it out with a brush.

If it’s too hard, too long or too miserable, you have the wrong tool.

I saw someone stencil with modeling paste. They weren’t making a rubbing plate of it They were building a raised image. . But I sure could. The number of available stencils appears to be endless. I still wish I could make my own designs work.

Here’s my first efforts. The colors are irrelavent. They’re whatever acrylic paint I had. I do think it’s helpful to use a color because you can see your raised surface better and correct it easier if needed.

I’ll be exploring this for a while in the next couple of blogs. Next week, how to make the plates.

Is This Off Color? Other People’s Perceptions

| ellenanneeddy

I spent last week working on three cranes. I was fairly pleased with myself, when someone asked, “Are these cranes having sex?

I hadn’t seen it. I still kind of don’t. I looked up a picture of cranes in love, and it didn’t quite look that quiet. But I have my head in my hands trying to figure out what I do next.

I was inspired by a Japanese textile design in a Dover Pictorial Archive book. I’m pretty sure they didn’t see it as cranes in love. It was my own rendering of it, changed in the way we change everything we draw ourselves.

Usually I let people tell me anything about my art. If it comes from them, it’s theirs. I don’t mess with that. I meant what I meant. I’m not responsible for their response.

But this hits me in a place that makes me feel very vulnerable. Sex is about bodies and bodies are about vulnerability. Art is about visual vulnerability. I’m not really secure about body image. I work in animal imagery since I can’t bear to work in human flesh. I have a delicate detent with my body, somewhat riddled by the failures of old age and memories of high school.

It’s a response to really old tapes. I wasn’t just fat. I was born deformed. Admittedly, it was a small genetic oops. But my mother could build a tragedy out a broken nail.

IF you are harmed enough, people can frame you as being inhuman. If you are harmed deeply enough, you may even think that’s true. If other people think it’s true, they can do anything to you because you aren’t a human being. That was my whole childhood. It seems to be going around globally right now.

I’m not taking this anywhere except in my own life. And I don’t want anyone to explain situations where it is somehow ok. Or tell me to get over it. I don’t believe we get to dehumanize people.

The bottom line is that I’m terrified of naked vulnerability. My animals are me in some way. I’ve come to see my self through Don’s eyes and his vision is kinder than my memories. I usually let that stand. I’m not sure I can be a crane in love on a quilt.

I took the time to reoutline the birds. It usually makes things clearer. Maybe this time that’s not such a good idea.

So what do I do with a quilt with cranes possibly delecto inflagrante? Do I finish it? Put a bunch of cat tails around them? Do I stuff it in a drawer until I feel more brave? I tend to not just throw work out, even if I don’t like it. I could put a lower price on it, and it either sells or it doesn’t. That assumes I can bear to finish it. There’s a dark corner in the closet, perfect for storage.

So what do you think? Would you finish it? Show it? Put a fig leaf on it? What?

Less Is Less: Color Choices for Smaller Images

| ellenanneeddy
machine embroidered. not outlined yet.

I’ve whined a bit about larger work this month, mostly because I had 6 full sized pieces to finish. Not fun. But all but one is done.

So in response to that, and in giving myself a break, I decided to do something smaller. These Japanese cranes have been on my mind for a wile. Originally they were on a textile.

People talk about making a smaller version of something and then blowing it up. I’ve never found that works. The size changes what you can do with your stitchery.

When I work large, my thread color choices have to fill in a space. It’s a larger space. I do have a formula for that. And a basic color strategy.

  • I work dark to light.
  • The color of my background is the light within the piece. So that color has to be part of the choices.
  • Everything is accentuated. I choose my colors to be more intense than the overall effect I want
  • Your eye will mix the colors. Even if they don’t seem to go together. Don’t be afraid.

I choose

  • A dark tone of my desired color.
  • A shader, usually either purple, brown, dark green or blue.Often I’ll use a complement from my desired color
  • Several shades of th chosen color.. They can differ in tone and clarity, but they need to be lined up dark to light.
  • A shocker. Usually the complement in a bright form
  • A light color that is the color of the piece.
  • The lightest color. Usually lighter than you want the piece to be as a highlight.

That fills in a lot of space.. It needs to. It allows for some intense coloration.

Smaller work is smaller space. No help for it. The stitching isn’t as intense and you end up with a much small space to fill in. So your choices pull in.

For your thread choices you’ll want.

  • The darkest tone of your color
  • A toner, complement, brown, blue, or purple
  • A mid color
  • Maybe a shocker
  • A light color
  • May be a highlight color

It’s the same theory, but it’s stepped down for smaller spaces. I don’t like to work that way because it makes wild choices feel more intense. It abstracts very quickly

So I worked on these cranes this week. They’re white, but I worked up to that with a lot of soft toned pastels and greys. I was completely worn out on them until I slipped in a bit of turquoise.

I’m not wildly unhappy with this, but I feel limited by it

.The joke is that the ended up fitting into a yard of hand dye, the size I most often use for large quilts.

I don’t often do this, but I have a pervasive urge to redraw the image bigger, and go wild with the colors, just to see what I get.

It’s always good to change things in your work. Any change is a challenge. Chainge the size, change your pallet, change your subject, and certainly at the right moment, change your undies. Change is good.

Tackling the Task: Where Are My Big Girl Panties?

| ellenanneeddy

I’ve been prepping for a show proposal for weeks now. While I was working through my machine woes, I couldn’t back and bind the larger quilts. Now that I have a functional 930, I could accomplish that.

Two years ago, I started this heron piece. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s a heron drawing I found in my files. It was lovely. So I embroidered it and fit it into a quilt.

But it’s large. The word large is inadequate. It’s roughly 59″ x 59″ It’s larger than I’m tall.

Embroidering it wasn’t’ the problem. But after you add a back and a layer of felt, you have a lump. A very large lump.

So it sat the corner. And I became afraid of it. I made a myth of it. It was too large. It wouldn’t fit through the machine. My arms aren’t as strong as they used to be.

I had a friend ask if I could make it work if I cut it up in some way. That shook me loose. It wasn’t a bad quilt, or even a failed quilt. It was just too big. And I was being a coward.

After that I went hunting my big girl panties.

All of those things are true. It’s too large, it did not fit prettily into the machine. I had to jam it under the machine head. And my arms may be less strong, but my will..? Never doubt my will. No one can tell me no but me.

There’s no can’t like won’t, Sometimes we build myths about our work. “It’s so good.” “It’s no good.” “It will never lie flat” Almost all of that is irrelevant. I won’t know i it’s good for some while after I finish it. I need to stop the negativity and just step into the task. It was backed, quilted and bound in 3 days.

Here’s the details on Great Blue

Here are the other quilts I’ve set up for my proposal. I think the heron’s really necessary. Big girl panties and all. Wish me luck.

Willow March
Egret
Blue Fish
Octopi Reel
Bsvkyard Conversation
Waterfall
Blue Pond
Snake in the Grass
In the Shell
Big Fish
Waterfall

Done: When the Quilt is Finished

| ellenanneeddy

I finished three quilts this week. That felt great but I always have a kind of wobbly moment when a project is done. With the machine troubles, I wasn’t able to back or bind things easily, so it waited. I had 6 quilts backed up, ready to bind. I have three done, three left to bind.

After you finish, you look around the studio and try to figure out what’s next. In this case, a whole lot more binding. It’s not encouraging.

In Myers-Briggs speech, I’m an INFP. The P stands for perceptive. The N for intuitive. What that means is that I don’t like finishing.

When I start a piece of art, it’s truly a part of me. It comes out and is connected to each day in the studio.

But as it grows, it develops a life of it’s own. There are things that quilt will demand. Some of which aren’t what you normally do. So you separate slowly, as the work finishes.

When it’s finished, it’s itself. It has it’s own destiny. It will do what it’s supposed to do. And I desperately need another piece to fill the void.

I suppose it’s separation anxiety.

I’m very anxious when I finish work. I don’t know what to do with myself until I start something new. The process itself is how I live and breathe. One quilt flows into another. One piece suggests something else that has to be tried.

Lucky me, I have three more quilts to back and bind. It’s not my favorite part. By the time I’ve finished that, I’m done. And part of me longs to be off with another piece, figuring out its background and thread colors.

But there is something wonderful that happens when a top becomes a quilt.

It feels finished. It feels complete. It’s ready to be shown and shared. It’s a finished chapter.

It leaves a hole.

I’ve been riding a I need to take my new work, this new wind and use it to safe a place for my work. Besides, it makes me crazy not to show it off. It has a life of it’s own. That life shouldn’t be just the closet.

So I’ll grind through bindings, and flip through books until the next thing grabs me by the neck and must be made.

The embroidery makes me happiest. After all, it’s color therapy in thread.

I’ve randomly added pics of the finished quilts. They are up and for sale on Etsy

This article has good information about the Myers-Briggs personality types. It’s a helpful way at looking at how others view their worlds.

Oil Can: A Cautionary Tale

| ellenanneeddy

Do you remember in the Wizard of Oz when they fixed the tin man with an oilcan?

Let’s just start this out by saying I am not a mechanic. By training or inclination. I have 60 years of working with sewing machines by way of experience. I am in no way recommending this proceedure. I’m telling you it worked for me.

You know I’ve been wrestling with my machines. It all came to a head last week when the working 930 Bernina froze solid, mid stitch. This is the fourth machine that has done that.

Don looked at me and said, “Have you oiled it?” Of course I oiled it. All the places in the book.

Fixing is Don’s job. Oiling is mine. Besides, I was restless and distraught and desperate. I got out the new shop light and oiled everything that moved metal against metal. There were a lot of places I would have never found without the light. It felt fruitless. Don said, “Let it sit.” That felt awful, but there wasn’t anything else to do.

The next day, the wheel budged just a bit. I pushed at it. It rotated a bit in a jerky way. Don said, “Let it sit.” I oiled it again like watering the garden.

The next day it didn’t move at all. Or the day after that, Or the day after that. I kept oiling.

Today was the day I pushed the wheel and it moved. All the way around. I got out the light and saw a hunk of thread I’d missed. I pulled it out bit by bit with a hemostate. I oiled again He put it back together and it ran. I kissed both him and the machine.

It sounds simple, but it’s not. The manual on your machine suggests several oiling parts. The idea is that your mechanic will get the other spots during a tune up. That assumes your machine is under ten years old. And being serviced regularly. And that your mechanic knows the older machines. As machines age, they get dry. In places that are hard to reach and not documented.

So the oil can be the cure. Except when it’s not.

Know your machine

What is your machine made of? Outsides don’t count. Insides do. Oil will abrade plastic, and possibly nylon. So you NEVER oil something that’s plastic on metal or plastic on plastic. Only oil metal on metal. Tap on it with your screwdriver if you aren’t sure. You’ll hear the difference.

Get a really good shop light.

I was shocked with what I could see with a magnifying shop light. I have several, but this is clearly the best of them. I found places on my machine I’d never heard about, and I do have a mechanics manual.

You also don’t want to open anything that will void the waranty. My machines are 20-40 years old, so that doesn’t matter. Newer machines are also much more complex. You may want to talk to your dealer.

If you’re cleared, take off the panels you can. We’re looking for the secret spots. They hide in the dark.

This is an answer for a machine that is stuck. If your machine is really truly broken instead of stuck, it will tell you. Listen. Pops, bangs, screams, grinds, smoke, the smell of burned plastic, or sounds like it’s chewing, are all indications that something broke. Stop immediately. This will not self heal. Oil it, but don’t expect that to fix the problem.

When and where do you oil?

If your machine is working well enough to move the wheel by hand, you can see all the places where it moves. Oil moving parts that are metal on metal. You will find more places if you can turn the wheel to see where they are.

If it’s not moving at all, oil what you can see. Check that what you’re oiling is metal on metal.

Don’t be upset if you don’t get an immediate response. Oil seeps in. If it won’t move at once, give it some time to penetrate.

What kind of oil? Buy your oil at the dealership. Oil is not all the same. Some kinds actually have shellac in them. If like me, you have many machines, you can buy in bulk. Bernina Jeff. of High Fashion Sewing, in Junction, CO, was kind enough to show us the oil he uses: Velocite # 10 spindle oil. I trust Bernina Jeff. His videos are accessible. He is knowledgeable and kindly. I purchased a number of small bottles and a pint of oil.

Can you oil too much? Of course you can. If you’ve got a puddle, there you are. Wipe it up and call it done. I like to use flannel to clean up oil.

Do check out Bernina Jeff. He has great machining toys for sale, knows his stuff and is a good and gentle teacher.

I do hope you never need this. But I intend to oil every machine I’ve got down to the nubs.

Marching On: Struggling Along to New Tech

| ellenanneeddy
Detail of fish in water elements

I have to say that this week has left me exhausted. My new to me 930 froze mid stitch, and I am, again. scrambling. Currently working are the 220 and the 20 U Singer.

If it sounds like a first world problem, you’re probably right. But I sew every day, usually around 3-4 hours a day. It’s more than a job. It’s not quite an adventure. It’s certainly my mental health.

When I was teaching, occasionally I’d get a student who would ask me how to do something. Usually it was an amazing idea. But I’d never tried it. I was sorry to tell them I didn’t know exactly how to do that, but that they eventually would. Art is not all about inspiration, and public statements. It’s often fed by the ability to hunt the snark, find a way to make things as you wish. It’s damn hard work.

But if it’s important enough, you find a way. And many artists have the decency to make their journey available to others, so that our art grows, not just in volume or in content but in ability. It’s why we write. It’s why we teach.

If I said that to you in class at one point, I apologize profusely. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it’s what you wanted to hear. And I thank you for not having hit me.

The art quilt movement rebuilt quilting. Part of it hunted down old skills: hand stitching, hand quilting, pattern pieces, paper piecing and the like. Part of it is new tech: rotary cutters, machine work, computer design, different materials and stabilizers, different threads.

This is not the glamourous part of art. It’s grueling. Try one thing, try another. Look for an answer. Take the best compromise you’ve got.

Edging with three hoops on the 20U

I’m currently working on a koi fish quilt, working title, Upstream. It includes a kick ass koi and waterfalls over cliffs. I’m proud to say I figured out how to do the detail stitching on the 20 U. It involved 3 metal stackable hoops. I’m waiting with some anticipation for my Maggie Frame to arrive. It may really change the whole hooping process

The hoops are important because I can’t get a foot to work on the 20 U. The one foot that works won’t deal with the thickness of the quilt sandwich. Other feet I tried didn’t work with the machine or allow for a zigzag stitch.

For those not familiar with how sewing machines work, your machine will not form stitches if your fabric isn’t held taunt. Your pressure foot usually provides that stability. Without it, something else has to hold your fabric tight. Hense, the hoop. This video does a nice job of explaining how a stitch forms.

So I have to figure out the hoop thing.

On another front, my new crashed Bernina 930 is in pieces soaking in machine oil. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.

Stitched down with water elementals

I’m struggling with finding ways to utilize the Singer 20U. I added in my cliffs, direct applique with the 20U, using that stack of hoops. It’s a less elegant stitch line, but it worked.

Next steps: stipple in, add water splashes, back, quilt and bind.

A Big Hooping Deal

| ellenanneeddy
20 U Singer Industrial

Those of you who follow me know I’ve been working on getting the 20 U Singer industrial to work for zigzag embroideries. I’ve been positive about it, although that’s been more of an affirmation than a reality. We’re still not there yet.

I spoke with a mechanic last week who said, “You can’t get that machine to do that.” He’s speaking out of his experience, but I’m feathered if I let a little thing like someone’s experience stop me. Besides, I did used to work large embroideries on this machine. It went too fast, it broke thread and needles right and left, but I could use it with a screw tight embroidery hoop.

We’ve solved the broken thread fast issue with a servo motor. That’s working quite well.

But did I mention I hate hooping? Stitch three inches, move the hoop. Stitch another three inches. It’s painfully slow. This is the front and back of my test piece. The moth is straight stitch. The squiggle is zigzag. A hoop will work, without a foot.

Maggie Frame

Which is why I’m ecstatic about the hoop I purchased today. Maggie Frame is a magnetic hoop set for embroidery machines. But I don’t see any reason why I can’t use it free motion. The hoop snaps and is held in place with magnets. This video gives you an idea how it works.

Here is a comparison between the Maggie Frame and Mighty Hoop.

The sandwich I’m using to embroider is a layer of hand dye, felt, stitch and tear and totally stable. Stuffing that into a screw down hoop is hopeless. This video showed them hooping four layers of terry towels. I can’t wait!

I’ve ordered a 10″ x12″ hoop. As always, I’ll share my journey with you as I try this new tech out.

Water Ripples: Adding an Extra Splash

| ellenanneeddy

I love organza and lace for natural elements. I can make water easily with some fusible and sheers. I cut c shapes in various sizes and colors, and fit them into pond or river water.

This is a process I usually do right before I put on my embroidered components. I get everything embroidered, so I’m sure it fits in, and then add the elements (air, wind, water, clouds, smoke) to the background itself before I stitch down any of the embroideries. Only after tthe sheers are stitched on, do I stitch the components down.

There is one problem with that. It leaves my fish and reeds all out of the water. They are in front of the water, but not in it.’

What I’m looking for is the feeling of layers. I usually cut c shapes and swirls. Then I mix them together until I have water amalgamated with different temperatures and depths.

If you think about real water, it’s always in layers. You put your toes in, and maybe you feel the sun warmed top layer, Go further in, and the lower levels feel colder. How do we express that as art? I think the deeper the colors are, the colder they feel. We can make layered water, warm on the top, but colder as we go further in.

So the last thing I often do is to lay a few pieces of organza and lace over top of the fish. Not completely. but enough that they’re completely clearly in the water.

Anything less would be all wet.